Mine

Mine

It has been mine for as long as I can remember. There is no time before it, and there will be no time after it. It is here to stay. It is here and it is mine, forever.

It will always be just me and my secret, and you must believe me when I say I’ll never tell.

Pictures and albums litter my life and I find it hard to look at the little girl with the smile upon her face. I am amazed at how easily I was able to fake it back then. Today, I find it much more difficult to do. Growing up and dealing with this severity of pain on my own has created a now neurotic, insecure, and amazingly guarded woman. But it is those who are in the pictures with me that I have chosen to protect over myself. I am saving them from feeling what I have felt my whole life, by acting as my own confidant.

I hold onto something within that could easily destroy a lifetime of connections, something much bigger than a drunken kiss or bloodshot eyes. It is a betrayal that has determined every relationship I’ve had, and will ever have. I question every look, every tone, every motive, and everyone in my life. It is the reason I can so easily block and delete some people from my life, and why I hold on so desperately to others who ultimately mean nothing to me. It is a game of back and forth, freedom and imprisonment, love and hate – a slow, diminishing life. It has become something I have grown accustomed to. I picture life no other way; normalcy is unattainable in my world. We all have scars, some more deep than others, hidden away in the dark. So, I am just another victim of this cruel life, with vague words that hide a secret. And it is mine, not yours.